


Daycare

by aesccum



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Dubious Consent, Nonbinary Character, Other, POV Second Person, Pokephilia, Sex Pollen, Tentacles, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:53:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27700969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aesccum/pseuds/aesccum
Summary: You love working at the Daycare Center!
Relationships: Fushigibana | Venusaur/Original Pokemon Trainer(s)
Kudos: 59





	Daycare

"Will you be okay closing up alone?"

"Yup!" You smile at the older gentleman standing by the door, his hand resting on the handle. "The last trainer just dropped off their Pokémon so I'm going to get it settled in, and then I'm off for a date."

"Oh ho ho! Still seeing that nice young man? Well be safe, don't do anything I wouldn't do." He winks and you laugh as he pushes open the door and slips out into the warm summer night. "Good night!"

"Bye!" You lock the door and with a satisfied sigh, turn to face the empty daycare. A red and white pokeball sits in a little tray on the counter, waiting for you to attend it. As you place the pokeball into your apron pocket, you recall how… agitated the trainer had seemed. Apparently the Venusaur contained inside was a little unruly. But a little unruliness was nothing an experienced daycare worker like you couldn't handle.

But just in case, you decide that for tonight, the Vensaur should have its own area in the yard. Afterall, you have a date to get to and don’t have the time to properly introduce a large grumpy plant to the other residents of the daycare. 

Red light zips from the pokeball as you release the Pokémon inside. "Alrighty, Vensaur, there's water and food and soft places to sleep." 

You smile your best smile as the Venusaur eyes its new surroundings. It's the largest Venusaur you've ever worked with, and definitely surly looking, but you've handled worse. 

"I'll come and check on you in the morning, okay?"

It gives you an unimpressed glare. 

"You are grumpy, aren't you?" But that's tomorrow's problem. You wave at the Venusaur and head for the gate to the enclosure. Behind you, the Venusaur growls. You frown and turn to check on it just in time for a fine mist of pale yellow pollen to explode from the Pokemon's flower.

You sneeze as the pollen slowly settles over you. You freeze, half expecting your muscles to spasm and stop responding, or for drowsiness to knock you off your feet. When an unexplainable heat begins to blossom underneath your skin, you fear the worst and immediately wish that the antidote kit wasn’t inside the daycare. 

But the heat doesn’t feel like poison. It… feels nice. It spreads from the core of your being to your fingertips and then back again, centering much to your embarrassment between your legs. You feel your pussy throb, the fabric of your underwear suddenly too stimulating against your swelling clit. You’re wet. Wetter than you’ve ever been in your life. 

You stumble back from the Venusaur. You need to get inside and rinse this pollen off quickly. 

You only manage a single step before the Venusaur rumbles and growls. Two vines lash out from the flower on its back and you yelp as they wrap around you, dragging you to the ground. One tentacle twists around your chest and shoulder, the tip sliding up underneath your shirt and over your nipples. The other wraps around your waist and one thigh. You find yourself on your hands and knees, legs spread wide. The Venusaur steps over you, its massive weight pinning you in place as effectively as its vines. You feel something solid poke against your thigh and ass. The Vensaur shifts forward slightly and the solid mass rubs against your shorts. The Pokémon pulls back, then rocks forward again and you realize that the thing rubbing against you is the Venusaur's cock. It's long with a thick base that tapers gently then suddenly bulges out at the head with an odd, egg shaped tjp.

Horror rushes through you. You are so, so incredibly wet.

The venusaur grumbles low in its chest as it slowly ruts against you. Each forward thrust causes more and more pollen to shake free of the large flower on its back. It sticks to your skin, igniting it with tingling warmth. It tastes sweet on your tongue, like honey, and floods your lungs with its sticky heat. You feel your body burning up with every breath you take. 

You can’t help yourself. A deep unsettling need grows stronger and stronger in your core. You can feel yourself soaking through your shorts. You loosen your arm from the vine wrapped around your torso and reach back between your thighs, shoving your hand down your waistband and grazing your fingertips across your hard clit. Shame colors your face. You try not to think of what the daycare owner would think if he saw what was happening right now, or the Venusaur’s trainer. Or even worse, your date coming to see why you’re so late. But you can’t stop yourself. The pollen induced arousal is too strong to withstand and only the sensation of your fingers working your sopping pussy offers any kind of relief. 

But your fingers are not enough. You need more. You need something inside you, filling you, stretching you wide. You need to feel something fucking into the deepest parts of your dripping hole until your mind melts out of your drooling pussy. In an effort to satisfy yourself you conjure up images of your date and picture him as the one pinning you to the ground and grinding against your ass. You try to imagine his cock slowly spreading you open, parting the lips of your slit and sinking deep into your flesh, filling you completely and giving you what you really, desperately need. 

But all you can really think about is the Venusaur.

Its low, deep rumbling growls. The crushing weight of its body. The heat of its strange, plant-like cock rubbing against your skin, the grip of its vines wrapped tightly against your helpless frame, the tips continuously brushing over your stiff nipples. It moves with intention. It doesn't care that you aren't the same species. It's going to breed whatever womb it can bury its seed in all the same and yours just so happens to be the closest one. You imagine it penetrating you and how its alien length must feel like and just the thought alone is nearly enough to send you over the edge. 

You can’t stop yourself. 

You’ve never wanted anything more.

You support yourself on one shaking hand and with the other, you squirm around until you can clumsily tug on your shorts. As if sensing your motives, the large creature stills itself just long enough for you to yank your clothing down your soaking wet thighs. You feel the Venusaur's sinuous cock rest heavy and hot on your bare skin. And then it begins to lazily thrust again. Each movement seems more careful and pointed than before. You pant and hold yourself still, heart beating wildly in your chest as its thickness prods your wet cunt. It slides between your bare thighs twice, adjusts, and then runs directly over your slit. You moan loudly. The next thrust is harder, parting your swollen and puffy lips, the tip of the head teasing your aching clit. Then the Venusaur pulls back even farther and its bulbous head presses against your hole. There is the slightest moment of pressure and resistance, and then your whole body quivers as the thick head pops past your barrier and finally pushes deep into your aching cunt.

It fills you in a way you have never been filled before. It splits you open and stretches you wide, leaving no part of your over sensitive folds untouched. Again you notice how the oval shaped, pod-like head sits on a narrower stalk that quickly widens. Its shape is unlike anything you've used on yourself before. The texture is smooth, almost rubbery, but not unpleasant and it moves easily through your drenched tunnel. Thoughts about your date and worries about potential witnesses immediately drift from your mind. You only think about how good it feels, how right it is to finally be filled so completely. You shamefully cum with a low whine, your fingers desperately massaging your clit while your hole flutters around the intruding cock.

The Venusaur fucks you slowly and thoroughly, oblivious to your babbling nonsense for more, please, more you need more. It withdraws from your spamming hole until only the bulging pod head remains inside, and then drives forward until you feel it press against the deepest part of you. Every thrust feels purposeful and measured. When begging doesn't encourage the Venusaur to pound you harder or faster, you attempt to take matters into your own hands. You brace yourself on your elbows and knees and push back frantically, trying to ride the thick cock for all you are worth. The Vensaur rumbles deep in its belly and the vines wrap tighter around your hips and shoulders, forcing you to hold still. The message is clear. It will not be rushed. You have no choice but to lay there as it fucks you with single minded determination. 

Time blurs. 

You cum again. 

You have no idea how long the Venusaur has been working your pussy but it feels like an eternity passes before a sense of urgency fills its rutting. Its thrusts become shallow and quick, the pod head jamming against your cervix over and over. You groan, grateful for a change of pace, for anything other than slow and maddening stimulation. Half heartedly, you rub your swollen clit, craving another climax but too exhausted to commit. You've lost count of how many times you've orgasmed. Right as you feel an all too familiar peak begin to build, the Vensaur bucks particularly hard and stills. Your breath catches in your throat as the bulb at the end of its cock squirms against your cervix. Slowly, you feel it twist inside of you. The bulb separates, opening within you like a flower. Your mind goes haywire, torn between horrified panic and all consuming lust as it plasters its petals against the opening to your womb. It suctions itself against your cervix and seals tightly. The vine like cock pulses and thickens, stretching you impossibly further. A great pressure flows along its length and builds at the tip where it joins you. And then suddenly you are flooded with thick, syrupy heat and you cum.

The Venusaur pumps its seed into you for an eternity. Its cum follows the path of least resistance, flooding straight into your empty womb until you are filled to capacity. You drop your head down and crane your neck to see between your legs. Your hole is stretched obscenely, clit hard and jutting. Your tummy is visibly bloated, full and aching. With nowhere else to go, the Venusaur’s ejaculate leaks from your cunt to drip into your shorts in puddles of thick, viscous fluid. 

As you watch, the Venusaur jerks suddenly, thrusting hard into your already stuffed pussy, and you lose yourself to the hardest orgasm yet. 

After forever passes, the Venusaur’s cock finally begins to shrivel and wilt. The pod-head releases its suction on your walls and closes as the length slowly withdraws. Honey like goo pours from your ruined hole. The Venusaur’s vines release you, and you collapse into the grass. Unbothered by your condition, the large Pokemon lumbers away in the direction of the water trough. 

For some time, you simply lay in the grass, slowly recovering as the evening air cools your skin. The pollen seems to be wearing off quickly, but it’s still some time before you can move without your own clothes sending shocks racing straight to your fucked out hole. You pull your ruined underwear and shorts off completely, and stumble back to the daycare half naked. Once you’ve locked yourself safely in the bathroom, you try your best to clean yourself up, wondering what to tell your date as an excuse for standing him up.

Despite your best efforts to stop it, cum continues to leak into your underwear. As you rub a finger through your slit and around your still stiff clit, you idly wonder what your date thinks about sloppy seconds.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this absolute abomination of a creation.


End file.
